


Far From Where It Was

by candycoatedanxiety



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 06:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candycoatedanxiety/pseuds/candycoatedanxiety
Summary: Paul is a mysterious guy who needs saving.





	1. Chapter 1

PART ONE: THE WHIRLWIND.

John found himself among the sea of people waiting outside the Mercury Company suite in a building along Ayala Avenue. He was waiting for his name to be called by the HR chief as he was applying for a job as a Marketing Executive. It has been one hour since he came in. 

Minutes later, another guy came in. The guy had dark hair, big black eyes, and a charming appearance. He sat a few meters away from John. John kept on looking and looking at the guy who seemed cheerful. His eyelashes were so apparent that John thought that the guy was a man-child. 

"John Winston Stanley Lennon?" said the HR chief who leaned by the door of the office. John stood up and went inside.  

** 

John came out minutes later with a big smile on his face. His application had been considered and he will start next week. The guy whom he saw earlier stopped him and said his congratulations.  

"It seems that the company has hired you," said he, smiling. "Congratulations." 

John took his hand and shook it. "Thanks." 

"By the way, I'm Paul," said the guy. "Paul McCartney." 

"John Lennon," replied John, smiling back. "I have to go." 

"Wait, wait," said Paul, catching up on John. "Can I just go with you?" 

"Hmm?" said John, wondering why. "But you're here for a job interview, I suppose? They might call your name ---" 

"Well," whispered Paul, as he led John to the elevator. "The truth is, I already have a job. I'm just here to try my luck. But I realized that I don't need to look for another job." 

John nodded in acknowledgement as he spoke, "Okay then. Let's go. I'm hungry."

*** 

Twenty-four-year-old John Lennon lives in Makati, in a village not far from the Central Business District. He graduated with a degree in Marketing in a Catholic University in Manila. For years now, he lives alone and he supports himself by the monetary benefits he receives through his dead parents' pension monthly.  

"So you graduated from UST?" asked Paul over a plate of lamb burger and fries.  

"Yeah," replied John after taking a bite off his burger. "Why?" 

Paul smiled. "I graduated there too." 

John's eyes grew wide. "You did? Holy." 

"I graduated from the Conservatory, majored in Piano," answered Paul.  

So he's a musician, John thought.  

"Do you play any instruments?" asked Paul after a while. 

"Well, yeah. I play the piano, guitar and harmonica. I learned them classically when I was younger." 

Paul grinned. "Good! That's really good! You must develop them well." 

John noticed that Paul couldn't stop smiling. The smile has gotten him looking at him from time to time.  

Paul suddenly reached for John's right cheek and pinched it. John winced.  

"Why don't you smile?" grinned Paul as he held John's face after pinching him. "It's gonna help you establish a reputation." 

John merely gave a small smile as he continued to eat.  

"I like your mysteriousness though," said Paul out of the blue. "It makes me so interested."  

John gave him a stare then said, "Where do you live?" 

"Near your place." 

John smiled some more. "So you know where I live?" 

Paul smiled and gave a chuckle. "Yeah, saw you walking on the street I'm on a few times." 

John dropped his knife on the table and stood up. "I'm bringing you home."  

Paul's face changed. "Did I say something wrong, John? I'm sorry if I did."  

No reply. John just stood up and fixed his jacket as he waited for Paul to come with him.  

** 

"Oh, John...please..."  

Paul found himself entangled in John's arms, pinned on the wall. He wrapped his left leg over John's right as clawed his way on his back.  

"Surprised?" said John teasingly as he stopped to look into Paul's eyes.  

Paul nodded. "I thought you were angry when you said you were gonna bring me home ---" 

"Well, I did bring you home. Took you home with me."  

Paul smiled as he gave John a soft kiss on the lips. It was warm and heartfelt, something that has been drawn from deep in his being.  

"You're so hot," said John, hungrily. "Let me take you ---"  

Paul had unzipped his pants and dropped his boxer briefs, all ready for John to conquer.  

"Good boy," said John approvingly, licking Paul on the ear. Paul gave a soft moan as John sucked on his earlobe. He then felt warmth from down below, and stiffness that was as hard as wood. It was long and slender.  

The next thing Paul knew was John had entered him completely. The wild thrusting has blinded him in ecstasy, calling John's name loudly as if they were far from each other.  

"Be a good lover to me..." John moaned huskily. 

Paul let out another moan, and John covered his Paul's lips in time with a torrid kiss.  

One last thrust and John was completely done for. They both fell on the floor, breathing heavily while staring at each other. Paul reached out for John's face to touch it lovingly. His thumb then traced John's lips.  

Then they both laughed. Paul's was a giggle. John pounced over Paul and gave him a playful kiss, licking his lips and sucking on them. They laughed and smiled into the kiss. 

John and Paul were too high on thinking how it led to that moment where they couldn't control themselves anymore, as if they knew each other too well.  

** 

For days, John seemed happy and content. It was a whirlwind meeting Paul, and the make-out was a surprise that kept him smiling.  

"John," said George Harrison, John's friend and confidante. "What's that smile on your face? That never appeared on your face for years!" 

John looked at his friend and said, "I now have a lover, a very charming lover who got me looking at him on the first day." 

George laughed. "What you said was dead cheesy." 

"I mean it, George," replied John, taking a drag from his cigarette. "He's that guy you'd really keep." 

George seemed curious. "And who's this man?" 

"I'll introduce him to you soon." 

Paul came at the right time. "John, hey!" 

John's face lit up and gave Paul a peck on the cheek before turning to George. "Paul, this is my best friend George Harrison. George, this is Paul McCartney, my lover." 

George and Paul shook hands and greeted each other.  

"Uh, where is Ringo?" asked John. "Is he coming?" 

"Well, yeah," replied George as he pursed his lips. "We'll have to wait for him for five minutes." 

And Ringo came. He was bringing a violin with him.  

"Rings! What's that violin doing with you?" greeted John. "Oh, Ringo, by the way, this is Paul, my lover." 

Ringo's blue eyes brightened up as he shook hands with Paul. "Oh, hello. I'm Ringo Starr."  

"Paul McCartney," replied Paul.  

"Man, John. You're a lucky bloke!" said Ringo, which made Paul and John laugh.  

"I know," answered John. "And it's grand." 

And Paul and John turned around to the direction of restaurants in the mall. They went ahead of George and Ringo, who stayed a few paces away from the couple.  

"Paul looks familiar," said Ringo, looking at George curiously.  

"I agree," said George, stroking his chin. "I assume he came from the same school we graduated from." 

"Yeah, I think he did. Wasn't he the guy who mysteriously disappeared from the campus one day two years ago?" Ringo said, his voice sounding suspicious.  

George gave him a look of shock and gasped. "I think he was that lad." 

"What lad?" asked Ringo.  

"That lad we were with at the orchestra." 

Ringo's blue eyes lit up at the sudden recall. "He was! The sax bloke!" 

"John must've forgotten about him," sighed George. "He even commended him for his sax skills." 

"He was that McCartney lad," Ringo said. "It was him."

** 

"John, I think you're dealing with a ghost," said Ringo on the phone the next day. John was already at his desk, reviewing some documents.  

"What's that rubbish you and George are telling me?" 

"Paul looks familiar, really," answered Ringo. "He looks like that guy who disappeared from campus two years ago." 

"Rubbish. He's not." 

"Well, George and I could be wrong, but he really looks like him." 

John didn't feel like talking. "Talk to you soon. I feel nauseated. Stop judging Paul." 

Then he hung up on Ringo.

** 

That night, Paul was in his house. He was in bed, pondering about his newfound relationship with John. He touched his lips as if John was kissing him. Paul closed his eyes into the feeling.  

Suddenly his world became dark and cold. It was that fateful day when he ran his way around the campus when a masked man was chasing him with a bloodied axe. The masked man was on a rampage, hacking his axe at anyone who got in his way. Paul ran for his life as the axe missed him narrowly. He was screaming and crying as he groped through the corridor. The man didn't have enough mercy to spare Paul.  

Paul fought against the criminal, throwing things at him. Paul had cuts and wounds all over. It was graduation night and superstition had everyone thinking that graduates are prone to disasters and incidents. And Paul became the victim after getting his diploma. All of his batch mates were gone - some ran away, some got injured. 

"Why do you want to kill me? You've killed people who got into your way!" screamed Paul as he hurled a fire extinguisher at the killer.  

"Because you are the illegitimate son of my wife!" said the masked man hatefully, wielding his axe at Paul.  

Paul became confused. "What? Me? For the life of me, I know nothing about me being illegitimate. I am the son of my mother and my father!"  

"NO!" yelled the man. "You are the son of the devil! Because of you, I perished! Out with you to Hell!" 

The axe fell on Paul. It was all pitch black and quiet.  

Paul woke up, breathing heavily and sweating. Tears fell uncontrollably as he sat up and looked at the clock. It was seven-thirty in the evening. The phone rang.  

"Hello?"  

"Paul, honey?"  

Paul breathed deep. He was relieved to know that it was John who's on the other line.  

"I had a nightmare, and I'm scared," said Paul, his voice trembling.  

"Wait for me," said John. "I'm coming." 

Click.  

** 

The next day at lunch. George and Ringo decided to join John at the food court. John was sad.  

"What's bothering you, Johnny boy?" asked Ringo, reaching for John's hand. "You've been silent since we got here." 

"Paul," answered John, sipping from his hot mug of coffee.  

"You had a tiff?" asked George. 

"No. Paul had a nightmare. He remembered about him being almost killed by a masked man at his graduation." 

George and Ringo looked at each other. They were right.  

"I know what you blokes are thinking," sighed John. "He was the same guy who was reported missing after the graduation." 

"John, everyone thought he was dead. He was the subject of one discussion we had in class back in College," said George, seriously, looking into John's eyes. "He wasn't found in any hospital near the campus, not even in our university hospital!" 

John looked at his friend's eyes back, saying, "So, you mean he's in hiding?" 

George shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe he doesn't surface himself because the killer might be on the lookout." 

John nodded in acknowledgement. "I pity him. I must save him, protect him." 

"We'll be with you, then, John," said Ringo. George smiled in agreement.  

"Thanks," said John. "But I don't know how. This is such a delicate matter." 

"Does he have work?" inquired George. 

"Well, he has. He works at an advertising agency near our workplace." 

"Eh?" wondered Ringo, one eyebrow up. "And why isn't he here with us?" 

"He still has work to do. Duty calls," replied John. "But I'm buying him food now." 

** 

So the boys walked their way to Paul's workplace a few blocks away from theirs. They rode an elevator to the fifteenth floor and hopped off to the Johnson and Bjorn AdArt agency.  

"Uhm, hullo. I'd like to ask if Paul McCartney is there. I'm John Lennon, from Mercury and Associates." 

The accountant smiled as she called for Paul through the intercom.  

Paul came out after a few seconds, holding a mug of tea.  

"John!" he said happily as he hugged John and shook hands with George and Ringo. "You came for me! Why so?" 

"I brought you lunch, babe," whispered John, looking deep into Paul's eyes. He then led Paul to a far corner, far from the door of the agency where Ringo and George were waiting. "I missed you so much. " 

"Me too," said Paul as he kissed John briefly on the lips. "I drew pictures of us together in my spare time a while ago. I was too bored." 

"How are you now?" asked John, parting a section of Paul's bangs. "What time will you be out? Let's watch a movie." 

Paul grinned as he hugged John. "I'm better now, thank you! Be out at 5PM. Yes, please, let's watch a movie. It's been years since I last watched a decent one." 

John smiled. "OK. I'm fetching you before 5. Gotta go." 

"I love you, and thanks so much for the lunch, Lemon," said Paul, smiling. His charm was too infectious for John.  

"I love you more, McCharmly."  

And John walked Paul to the door of his workplace. George and Ringo said their good-byes to Paul. 

** 

John and Paul were at a movie house not far from their places of work. It was already six-thirty in the evening and they were watching a comedy movie. Paul was leaning his head on John's shoulder. Their hands were clasped to each other.  

After the film, John and Paul went to an Italian restaurant to eat pasta for dinner. They laughed and talked about plans over wine and pasta with meatballs. 

"Paul, I want us to live together," said John in the middle of dinner. He smiled at Paul, who was looking at him in his own charming sort of way. "Please move in to my house soon." 

"Yes, John, I will!" Paul replied happily, taking John's plea as a profession of love. "I will move into your home, John." 

And John became happy. It was one of his happiest evenings of his life.  

** 

"So you offered Paul to live with you?" said Ringo that night when he and George visited John.  

"Well, that's great news." 

 

"I know it is great news," said John, drinking beer. "I thought it's a wonderful decision." 

"It is, indeed," agreed George. "It's a best way for you to protect him from that killer."  

"I wonder who that killer was," asked John, thoughtfully. "And why was that killer after Paul?" 

"He didn't tell you the story in full," said George. "He must be scared." 

"Why, you know something of it?" 

"Well, no," George answered. "Not that I am sure of it, but people say it was his father." 

John sighed deeply. "I hope the killer is not his father." 

"That's the least we can hope for, though," breathed Ringo. "No-one really knows the identity of the killer except the killer himself. Paul wouldn't know." 

** 

So, two weeks later, Paul moved into John's home. They both decided to sleep together in the same bed, and share their own personal effects. They now live under the same roof like a real couple, only that they're not married.  

"I am so happy, John," beamed Paul as he hugged John and kissed him. "This is the best decision I've ever made!" 

"Same here," said John as he smiled into the kiss. "I am more than blessed to have you in my life."  

Suddenly, Paul laughed. "Hahaha. I thought of our surname! McLennon!" 

John laughed at Paul's thought. "Well, you'll be James Paul McCartney-Lennon now, only that this country doesn't recognize same-sex marriages..." 

"Lennon-McCartney sounds better," said Paul, beaming even more.  

"So you're the husband?" said John, his voice becoming a bit crestfallen. "But you're my wife." 

"Well..." replied Paul. "You're right. You're the husband. Hahaha. But I said that because it just sounds better than McCartney-Lennon." 

The front door swung open and in came George and Ringo with three boxes of pizza, two bottles of fine champagne and a crate of strong beer. "Welcome to the Lennon household!" 

Paul hugged them both and said his thanks. "Thank you lads! By the way, John and I were talking about our surnames. I would be Paul McCartney-Lennon if we get married but I said that Lennon-McCartney sounds better. But, of course, John's my husband so I should get his surname instead. What do you think?" 

"Well," began Ringo. "Lennon-McCartney sure sounds better, Paul. "But since John is the husband, your name should be McCartney-Lennon." 

"To me, Lennon-McCartney sounds better," said George, to which John slapped his forehead.  

"Fine, fine," sighed John. "Well, my missus is the one who wears pants here..." 

And they all laughed heartily into the first night of Paul in John's house.  

** 

PART TWO: A PROLOGUE 

Rain and wind continued to hit the Conservatory of Music. George, John and Ringo ran towards the lobby for safety. With their slacks soaking wet, they sat on the steps leading to the music room upstairs.  

"Ringo's dead tired," huffed George, wiping his face with his handkerchief. "The double bass has gotten the best of him!" 

"If it weren't for you lucky blokes asking me to carry this big bass," replied Ringo, tying his hair, to the amusement of John and George. 

"When did you learn to tie your mop?" asked John, trying to stop a laugh.  

"Well, when I realized that I had to," said Ringo with a deadpan. "And it's quite hot here, so..."  

"Aw, come off it, you look like a woman!" John said, finally laughing.  

George laughed too, and Ringo wasn't pleased. 

"Look, we'll be late if we stay on like this," said Ringo as he stood up. "And you, George, please take your bass." 

"O...K..." said George as he took the double bass from Ringo.  

They went up to the orchestra room and when they opened the door, everyone in the string section hit the wrong note. The conductor wasn't pleased as he saw the boys. 

"Lennon! Harrison! Starr! You're late!" bellowed the conductor. "We've been practicing for thirty minutes!"  

"You didn't notice how torrential the rain is outside," George answered back, dropping his bag to look for his notes. "You didn't even notice how soaking wet we are!" 

"Sure, sure, Harrison," said the conductor, not wanting to hear them. "Get to your places. We'll have to start again. You, McCartney, will have to play the sax solo." 

McCartney? thought John. Sax solo? 

"Okay, sir," said the McCartney guy, looking nervous.  

"Erm sir, may I play the solo guitar?" suggested John.  

"Later, Lennon, when you've sobered up." 

The whole orchestra roared with laughter. McCartney covered his mouth, trying not to laugh as John looked embarrassed. So he found a seat next to George. Ringo was at the front row of the orchestra, adjusting the kettle drum.  

"So, let's begin!" ordered the conductor. "Starr, give us the time signature. That's at the fourth page of the notes."  

Ringo started to pound the drum as the string section followed suit. In the middle of the piece, McCartney introduced the third movement with his saxophone solo. John listened intently. It was beautifully played, the solo. John stood up and walked towards the front, near Ringo.  

After the solo, the conductor noticed John, who was now looking at McCartney with newfound interest.  

"Lennon, what the heck are you doing?" bellowed the conductor yet again. "Why are you standing near Starr and looking at McCartney?" 

John's face lit up as he replied, "Sir, McCartney played the sax so beautifully, really. That's why I'm standing here." 

McCartney beamed after hearing the comment. The conductor slapped his forehead. 

"Are you saying that just to exempt you from your duties?" 

"No, sir! I intended to commend him for his playing. It was great!" 

"Thanks, Lennon," said McCartney. 

"Don't mention it, McCartney," said John, smiling his usual small smile.  

"Alright, alright. Cut the pleasantries! You may all leave if you wish," said the conductor. "The Hardy Boys said it was raining so...you all have to go home." 

George and Ringo beamed. John sighed.  

"Did you hear that? We ran in the rain just to get here, and he's ending the rehearsal one hour early as scheduled?" complained John as he slumped onto the couch. 

"Well, it is better that way than making us stay here until the lights of the uni are out," reasoned Ringo. 

"We'll have to do this before we could graduate this month," said George, seemingly off-tangent. "Guys, we have to straighten up." 

"I know, I know," responded John, not wanting to hear about it. "But his playing was good. Dead good." 

"Grotty, you," rejoined George as he threw his wallet at John. "We'll wait here for the rain to stop." 

From the far corner, McCartney stood there and lit a cigarette. He was watching the rain outside the French windows of the room. The noise of the boys mixed with the loud torrential rain. The wind howled as he said to himself, "This'll be a long night." 

** 

John, George and Ringo have left the University, took with them their degrees. Ringo graduated with a degree in Fine Arts, majored in Painting, George with a degree in Philosophy and John with Marketing. All was left was McCartney, Paul McCartney.  

Now, it was his turn to leave the University. He was seated next to his batchmates in black togas. He was waiting for his name to be called.  

"James Paul Mohin McCartney, Bachelor of Arts in Music, major in Piano. Cum laude." 

The claps and cheers of the audience were deafening. Paul couldn't help but smile as he got up the stage.  

As soon as he received his diploma, a loud scream was heard and a sea of noise arose from the audience. Everyone was running, leaving their seats. The Dean, the professors were panicking as Paul told them to hide. A masked man hacked people who came into his way, until he appeared in front of Paul.  

Paul, with all his might, escaped through the left side of the stage. He struggled to exit the area, clutching at his diploma while the killer chased him all the way. Paul groped through the dark corridor as his toga got chopped. His arms and face got scratched and wounded by the props and other items that were hanging on the shelves of the props room corridor. Another hack at Paul narrowly cut the skin of his left arm. 

"Bakit hindi ka pa namatay!" said the killer as he was about to hack Paul's face. 

"Why do you want to kill me? You've killed people who got into your way!" screamed Paul as he hurled a fire extinguisher at the killer.  

"Because you are the illegitimate son of my wife!" said the masked man hatefully, wielding his axe at Paul.  

"But I am the son of my mother and father!" Paul said, walking backwards, his eye on the killer.  

"Shut up! Shut up!" said the masked killer, his voice trembling. "You are the son of the Devil! I wish you were never born! My life became miserable!" 

"Just who are you? Why are you blaming me for your misfortunes?"  

"Just die!" 

Paul didn't have any choice but to jump off the window. He opened the window and flipped his way out.  

I'll die with this or not, just please let me go from the killer... 

And Paul closed his eyes. The next thing he felt was twigs and leaves. He fell onto a rose hedge. He looked up to see the killer gone and all he thought next was to run to the nearest exit. It was dark and it was drizzling. Paul cried as he ran for his life to the avenue. Thoughts of him being alone on his own graduation day and the killer filled his head. It swirled and swirled until he found a jeepney that will take him home and away from it all.  

From then on, Paul lived his life alone some more. He then found work in an advertising agency in Ayala as a copywriter, doubling as a graphic artist --- so apart from his degree. But he found another job as a piano player in a hotel bar near his workplace. He played there on weekends, seven thousand pesos a week, four times a month.  

Not bad, he thought. As long as it adds to my nest egg, it's fine. I live alone anyway. 

Until he found himself at Mercury. He was tempted to find another job - a third job, part-time - just to keep him busy. The suite was filled with expectant applicants and one of them was John Lennon.  

John Lennon, the man who commended his sax playing. It's been a year and a half since he last saw him.  

**

PART THREE: LIVING TOGETHER. 

 

Paul never thought he'd be this happy.  

He didn't even expect John to be his lover. Everything was a whirlwind: him meeting John and kissing for the first time, making out.  

Maybe it's already time for me to be happy. 

It was ten in the morning when Paul woke up. He had filed a one-week leave from the office so that he can help John fix the house...and to adjust to the new life they're in.  

So after brushing his teeth and washing his face, Paul got down the stairs, and when he reached the kitchen, he saw that breakfast ready. John appeared from the bathroom with an apron that said "Kiss the Handsome Cook!" 

"Oh I will!" said Paul, in response to the statement on John's apron. "Good morning!" 

"You slept so long, huh?" chuckled John. "Was gonna wake you up with a kiss. So how's my lover?" 

"Oh so fine," smiled Paul. "And you?" 

"Better everyday," replied John as he pulled a seat for Paul. "Because of you. Your smile is contagious!" 

They laughed as they began to eat. Suddenly Paul had a question. 

"John, what's your plan for today?" 

John looked at Paul with his usual smile. "Well, to tell you...I filed a one-week leave. So that means we can spend a lot of time together." 

Paul stood up to hug and kiss John. "Oh John! I love you! What a funny coincidence! I filed a one-week leave too!" 

John laughed. "Hahaha! That's why you woke up late!" 

They both laughed as they continued to eat.  

 

** 

"John, you naughty boy. You filed a one-week leave?"  

It was George on the phone that afternoon. John had picked up the call from the living room.  

"Yeah, something bothering you with that?" 

"Well, no, not that I am against it but...you just didn't tell me and Ringo." 

John laughed. 

"Go on and laugh, Lennon. Haha! Your salary will be deducted!" 

"Who cares? I have Paul with me and that's fine." 

"Aha! And the reason is Paul! You lying cheat! You stated 'health reasons' here!" 

"Let me go for a week, will you? Don't squeal. I covered up for you when you accidentally shredded the agency contract." 

A pause.  

"Hah. I shut you up. So cooperate with me, lad. And we'll go along fine." 

George apparently had no choice. "Oh well."  

"I win. Treat me to some dinner soon," said John with a snicker.  

Paul got out of the bathroom as soon as John replaced the receiver. "You talking to George?" 

John walked towards Paul, wrapped his arms around him, and smelled him on the neck. "Yes, he laughed at me for filing a leave. Poor lad, he's just envious." 

"John, I'm ticklish there!" giggled Paul. 

"And my lover smells good and fresh...we should've bathed together!" 

"Hah! I got ahead of you!" laughed Paul.  

"I love you," whispered John as he reached for Paul's waiting lips. "I can't believe you're mine." 

And they kissed. Paul's warm mouth met John's. He got pinned on the wall just as John licked his way down from his lips, to his neck and to the curve of his shoulder. 

"John, you naughty boy...I took a bath already..." said Paul in between moans and purrs, his fingers weave through John's soft, dark brown hair.  

"This is my way of telling you that we should bathe together often..." answered John, busy licking his lover's nipples. He then gazed at Paul, whose eyes were closed into the sensation. 

"Oh...John... darling, please..." 

Paul's towel dropped on the floor, revealing his hardened manhood. John became excited as he continued to ravage his prize.  

And the phone rang. Paul reached for the phone as John worked on him. 

"H-hello?"  

"Paul? Is that you? Are you okay?" 

"Y-yes...Rrrringgoo..." 

John smiled as he heard Paul moan into the phone. Paul became red afterwards. 

"I'll call you back! Jeez." 

Paul dropped the phone as he moaned some more, for John was taking him in.  

"God...yes...John...oh...oh...oh..." 

And with that, Paul came. A lot. He was spent, heaving on the carpet, covering his eyes from the bright lights.  

"Baby, you're so delicious..." 

"I suppose I am," whispered Paul. "And I have to take a bath again..." 

John grinned as he reached for Paul's lips. "Taste yourself." 

They kissed. Paul moaned some more for John's kisses were always soft, sexy and loving --- the kind of kiss that you can never get enough of. 

As they broke off the kiss, John smiled in a way that he'd smile only when Paul is around. "You're like a dream, only that you're tangible, touchable, kissable..." 

"Fuckable, hmm?" added Paul, letting out a soft laugh.  

"Well, yeah...and most of all, loveable," rejoined John as helped Paul stand up. "Let's go take a long bath in the tub, shall we?" 

Paul nodded as he pulled John by the hand invitingly into the bathroom.


	2. When It Was The End of The Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul isn't mysterious anymore, but still needs saving. John has come to his aid.

PART FOUR: The Lost Situation 

It was a rainy night. Paul threw his toga somewhere along the road, right after he dropped off the jeep. He threw the garment as if it were a soiled tissue. After all, it had been soiled: soiled with blood that dripped from the axe. Soiled from the dark incident. He could've died, if he didn't jump off the window.  

He finally arrived in front of his aunt's house in Quezon City. It was noisy and bright: he could hear his neighbours drinking loudly, singing songs to a videoke machine. He could see them flushed and sweaty.  

"Wala pa ba si Paul? (Paul isn't here yet?)" said one of his aunts.  

"Wala pa po, (He isn't here yet.)" answered another as she was serving crispy pig knuckles and beer to their guests. 

"'Di ba ngayon ang graduation ni Paul? (Today's Paul's graduation, right?)" said the first aunt. 

The second aunt stopped in her steps. Her eyes widened at the fact that it was her nephew's graduation today. And she apparently forgot it. 

Coincidentally, Paul came inside the house, clutching his diploma to his chest as he ambled in, not bothering to greet the guests. He was very displeased with the guests, looking so filthy and drunk.  

"Eto na pala si Paul eh, (Oh, Paul's right here now.)" said one of the drunken guests, a man who happens to be one of the village watchmen.  

"Paul! Sa'n ka nanggaling? (Paul, where have you been?)" asked his first aunt sounding so worried, blocking Paul's way to the stairs.  

"Sa tabi-tabi, (Just somewhere.)" answered Paul, not looking at his aunt. His other aunt came to him, holding at his shoulders while trying to look into his eyes. 

"Paul, hijo, pasensya na at nakalimutan namin ang graduation mo...(Paul, son, we're so sorry we forgot your graduation...)" said his aunt, gripping at his shoulders as guilt came over her, choking her.  

Paul looked at her in a sarcastic manner. "Mabuti at 'di kayo pumunta. Baka pinatay na din kayo dun sa auditorium (Good thing you didn't come, you could've been killed at the auditorium)." 

His aunts were shocked and curious at their nephew's words. They watched him climb the stairs as their guests from the garage watched them in utter nosiness.  

Sensing the nosiness of their guests, Paul stopped briefly and said, "At 'yung hinanda n'yo, 'wag n'yo na akong tirhan ng pagkain. Ipakain n'yo na sa mga patay-gutom na 'yan. Wala akong gana (And the food you prepared, give it to those hungry, greedy bastards. I have lost my appetite)."  

"Paul, anak, ano bang nangyayari sa'yo? (Paul, son, what happened to you?)" said his first aunt, pleadingly, still crying.  

"Pagod ako, antok ako. Good night. (I'm tired. I'm sleepy.)" replied Paul from upstairs as he slammed his bedroom door shut.  

The second aunt became distressed as the other aunt watched the guests. She got off the landing of the stairs, walking towards the guests with her arms flying out.  

"Magsiuwi na kayo! Tapos na ang party! Uwi! (Get up and leave! The party's over!)" she bellowed as the guests leave. One of them took the whole plate of fried shrimps with him.  

** 

Paul sat on his bed, hugging his knees as he cried. He recalled that time when that masked man chased him around with that bloodied axe.  

Bakit hindi ka pa namatay? (Why didn't you die?) 

Paul cried at the sting of that sentence.  

Because you are the illegitimate son of my wife! 

Paul cried some more.  

You are the son of the Devil! I wish you were never born! My life became miserable! 

Paul sobbed at the words. He became utterly confused about his identity. Was he really the son of his mother and father? Was he an illegitimate child? 

Am I living a lie?  

He took the framed picture of his parents from his night table. He looked at his mother and father, who were smiling while holding him in swaddled clothes. The baby was him in the picture: wide eyes, smile and all. It was clearly him, no doubt. Did his eyes come from his father? Or did they come from his mother? Did his mother give him the lips that he has? The smile that everyone found contagious --- did it come from his father?  

Questions swirled in his aching head. It was twelve o'clock and his heart was becoming weak from all the adrenaline and stress and pain. He laid himself down and cried to sleep, holding the picture frame close to his heart.  

** 

It was already morning. The sun beams shone through the windows of his bedroom. His bedroom isn't that big. From the door, you can see the windows, and under the windows is his piano, a shiny, black Yamaha. Next to it, at the corner, is his bookshelf filled with comic books. TinTin, Asterix, Batman, Superman, X-Men and Avengers on the top shelf, sheet music and music encyclopedia at the second and at the bottom is his collection of novels. On the opposite side of his room, his four-door closet stand sentinel next to his bed. Between the bed and the closet is his night-table. Another night-table is found between his bed and his window. The walls are painted blue, sky blue to be exact, adorned with little paintings he did when he was in High School, and two guitars --- a Hofner bass and a Framus Hootenanny --- hanging above his bed.  

At last Paul woke up. The sunlight was already bright enough to wake him up. He looked at the clock, the face read ten-fifteen. Paul got up and took his towel, then walked off outside his room to the bathroom. His aunt saw him and held him by the wrist.  

"Ano ba ang nangyari sa'yo kagabi, hijo? (What happened to you last night, son?)" 

Paul gave her a sleepy stare. "Maliligo muna ako. (I'll take a bath first)" 

Then he walked off.  

** 

"Narinig ko sa kapitbahay na nagkaroon pala ng gulo sa UST kahapon, (I heard news from the neighbour that there has been some riot in UST yesterday)" said his older aunt over breakfast of pan de sal, kesong puti , hotdog, fried rice, and some chocolate cake.  

"Riot?" echoed his younger aunt, the one who cried last night to him as he got up the stairs. "Paul, hijo..." 

"Tiya Isabel, ampon ba ako? (Am I an orphan?)" interrupted Paul, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate.  

The two aunts looked at each other, then the younger aunt spoke, returning her gaze at her nephew. "Hindi ka naman ampon, bakit mo naitanong? (You're not an orphan. Why'd you ask?) 

So Paul recounted that painful moment with the masked man with a bloodied axe.  

"He said that I am the illegitimate son of my parents," said Paul, ending it.  

The older aunt, Tiya Maria, dropped her cheese knife and held Paul's hands across the table. Paul managed to breathe in deep as he felt his aunt's trembling hands.  

"Paul," she began, her voice shaky. "Hindi ka anak ng ama mo. Anak ka ng nanay mo sa ibang lalake. (You're not the son of your father. You are your mother's son from another man.)" 

Paul slammed his fist on the table. Plates and the utensils bounced about at the impact. Coffee went spilled on the flannel table cover. He was angry, depressed and ashamed. His aunts weeped at his reaction. Why didn't his mother tell him the truth instead?  

"How did it happen? How?" asked Paul, who was even more confused.  

"Sumama sa ibang lalake ang nanay mo habang nasa abroad ang tatay mo, (She had an affair with another man while your father was out abroad to work)" answered his Tiya Isabel. "Your real father was a boss in a big company in Makati ---"  

"Ano ang pangalan ng lalakeng 'yun? (What is that man's name)" asked Paul, his breaths short and shallow.  

"James," replied his Tiya Maria. "Your mother named you after him. She made you use his surname too." 

It was enough. He knew it was time for him to leave this place for good.  

** 

James McCartney. That was his real father's name. And he was named James Paul McCartney.  

"Pathetic," said Paul, looking at his own ID. "My mother named me after her lover." 

A truck was parked out in front of his aunts' house as men in over-alls carried all his belongings from his bedroom to the back of the truck. Meddlesome neighbours watched the men carry his black piano out of the door. Paul's aunts shed tears as they looked at their young nephew standing by the gate.  

"Bakit kailangan mong umalis? (Why do you need to leave?)" asked his Tiya Maria, still crying.  

"Para hanapin ang sarili ko, (To find myself)" answered Paul, as if there was no other choice.  

The piano was the last to be loaded and one of the men had informed Paul that they should go now.  

"I have to go," said Paul as he approached his aunts for one last hug. "I'll write or visit, whichever is handy." 

His aunts hugged him back, tears falling endlessly on their flushed cheeks.  

"Mag-ingat ka, (Take care)" said Tiya Isabel, kissing her nephew on the forehead.  

"Kunin mo 'to, (Take this)" Tiya Maria said, pulling from her apron pocket a rosary made of pearls. Paul took them with open hands.  

"Ingatan mo ang rosaryo, at iingatan ka rin ng Panginoon (Take good care of the rosary and God will take care of you)," she said as she kissed her nephew on the cheek. "Your mum owned the rosary and told me to give it to you at the right time." 

Tears welled up on Paul's eyes. He took the rosary close to his chest as he weeped.  

"I'm going now," he said as he cried. "Good-bye." 

He walked away slowly as his aunts let go of him. All they managed now was to watch their grown nephew board the cab that was waiting with the truck. As the cab sped away, Paul waved at his aunts one last time. 

"Boss, sa'n ho tayo? (Boss, where are we going)" asked the cab driver.  

"Makati. San Antonio Village," replied Paul, still sniffing.

**

PART FIVE: A MOST EARNEST LOVE 

Ringo walked infront of John's desk that day. He saw John looking at a picture of Paul on the computer screen.  

"Ehem," said Ringo, clearing his throat, trying to get John's attention. "In love again today, you lad?" 

John minimised the window where Paul's picture was. "Oh, it's you Ringo." 

"Sorry to interrupt your daydreaming but..." Ringo said, pausing as he inched closer to John. "Boss is calling you." 

John raised one eyebrow. "Oh? What for?" 

"Dunno," shrugged Ringo. "But maybe he's gonna ask you to catch some...birds. It's your turn now, you know." 

"Fook him, that lazy douchebag," whispered John as he prepared to proceed to their boss' office. "I didn't apply here to become his yes man --- but oh well, it's my first time to see him face-to-face." 

"Eh?" quizzed Ringo.  

"Yeah, he wasn't the one who interviewed me that day. It was a willing-looking bird who interviewed me. HR." 

"Oh. 'Kay. See you 'round," called Ringo across the room as John walked away.  

** 

"Sir, you called for me?" said John as he came inside the boss' room.  

His boss was fifty-something, still young-looking after all the stress in the workplace. He smiled like he was still a boy and he was uncannily charming.  

"Mr. Lennon," the boss began. "Are you married?" 

John gulped. "Well, sir, no. I am not." 

"How old are you then?" 

"Twenty-four." 

"Very well," said the boss, swinging his chair briefly to the left to reach a big book --- a scrapbook. "Do you keep a scrapbook?" 

John found his boss' interview weird. "No, sir. But I keep a journal." 

The boss smiled. He then placed the scrapbook on the table, towards John. "This is a scrapbook of the only woman I loved deeply." 

John became amused that his boss has a romantic side.  

"She sent me pictures of our love child every month, which is sweet," the boss said thoughtfully, running his fingers on the leather cover. "Our child is handsome, and she said that our son looks like me." 

John smiled. "That's nice, sir. But where is she? Where is your son?" 

With this, the boss sighed. John regretted he asked the question so he apologised. 

"No, it's all right, Lennon," said the boss, looking at John with a smile. "Care for champagne?" 

Half-sensing that this might be a test, John refused.  

"Okay," said the boss as he swung around to get himself a glass of champagne. "I'll drink all by myself. It's four o'clock now, and I'll leave in a bit."  

John felt a bit out of place. He then felt weird about his current situation.  

"My lover left me for she was married," the boss related, sipping champagne. "She took our son with her. The last time I heard from her was ages ago. Our son had just graduated from High School and that our son wanted to pursue something...unmanly." 

Unmanly? John thought.  

"I don't know what course in College it was," said the boss, as if reading John's mind. "She said that her husband became angry to our son for choosing such a course." 

And then the boss chuckled. "I can't blame my son if he chose to become an artist. I am an artist myself, a musician." 

John smiled a bit. His boss has a soft side, then.  

"Do you play music, Mr. Lennon?" 

"Yes sir, I do. I played guitar and piano in College, in our own orchestra." 

"That's grand, Mr. Lennon." 

Then John's boss cried. "I miss my son. I do not where he is now. My former lover stopped writing ever since." With that, he hugged the scrapbook. 

John felt bad for his boss. He frowned at the sight of his boss: frail, sad, and emotional.  

"John, thank you for listening to me," said his boss. "You may go." 

John stood up, his eyes still on his boss. "You are welcome, boss. You're son must be lucky to have you, wherever he is now." And John left the room. He felt sad himself, envying the boss' son.  

Good thing you have a loving father. Why are you away from him? I no longer have my parents with me. You should be lucky, lad. 

As John arrived at his table, he saw George sitting on his desk, toying his Yellow Submarine paperweight.  

"Shove up," said John as he sat down by his desk. George sat on the chair infront of the desk. "What's eating you now, Lennon?" 

"Nothing," said John. "Boss. He shared something very personal." 

George's eyes widened at the answer. "Our boss? Personal?" 

John nodded. "His son must be lucky to have him. But his son's nowhere to be found. Lucky him, that bloke, whoever he is. I have no parents and here he goes out and about while his own father spending a moment." 

George didn't know what to say. Ringo came in. 

"Boss had a prob?" greeted Ringo.  

"He misses his son," replied John.  

"His son? Lost?" 

"Yeah. His former lover took their son with her." 

Ringo shook his head. "Dreadful." 

John stood up, getting ready to leave. "I have yet to find out what that scrapbook has." 

Ringo and George exchanged glances. John took his bag and walked away.  

** 

That night, John came home, only to find out his Paul watching TV.  

"I'm home, Paulie," greeted John, tired. Paul stood up, smiling, then walked over to John to kiss him. Instantly, John grabbed his lover by the waist and took him closer to kiss him.  

"How was your day, honey?" asked Paul, stroking his lover's hair. 

"Stressful," replied John, referring to his boss. "As usual, lots of filing, lots of calls to answer and lots of problems to deal with. But they're all gone with one look at your picture."  

With that, he patted Paul on the head and stroked Paul's hair. Paul smiled. 

"How about yours?" said John as he sat down on the couch while Paul removed his shoes.  

"Well, I went home early," said Paul, as he pulled John's socks off. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." 

"It's okay, love," replied John, watching Paul stand and walk away. "But next time, please tell me, okay?" 

"Yep, I will," replied Paul as he emerged with a basin filled with warm tea. "Here, soak your feet in here so that they'll be relaxed." 

John smiled as he soaked his feet in the warm tea. "Ahh..." he said, soothingly.  

Paul sat next to him, leaning his head on John's shoulder. ""By the way, I cooked us dinner. I grilled burgers for you plus a hearty salad and soup." 

John's face lit up. "That's why I love coming home to you, you know that. I love you!" 

Paul blushed at the comment. "Your clothes are in the bathroom, Johnny boy," he told John in his ear. "You can refresh yourself while I prepare the table." 

John smiled as he replied with a kiss. 

"I love you so much, Paulie," John whispered as he broke the kiss. "I am so happy to have you and I will never go away from you." 

"I love you too, Johnny baby." 

They kissed again. John's hands found their way on Paul's chest, his fingers stroking his nipples through the shirt.  

"Baby," Paul let out a gasp. "We still have to eat dinner." 

John stopped, loving the way his lover looked then smiled. "I know, honey, I just miss you." 

Paul smiled as he pushed his lover away, playfully. "Then be patient. I'm all yours tonight." 

John kissed his lover quickly as he patted his bum. "I'll wait for that time, you sexy boy." 

Paul grinned as he stood up to go to the kitchen. "'Course you will wait, I'm your slave. Let me just prepare the food."  

John winked, and Paul returned the favour. 

** 

After a round of lovemaking that night, Paul dozed off to sleep. John was left awake, smoking by the window, looking at the view of Makati City under the moon. The wind was chilly, chilly enough to make John recall about his boss.  

I wish to see the scrapbook, he thought as he took a drag. And I wish his son would know how lucky he is.  

** 

PART SIX: When the tides have taken over 

John was at the office early the next day. He brought with him a little lunchbox filled with food. Paul had woken up ahead of him to cook him his lunch.  

"Wow, so it's school again, huh?" kidded George, who was sending a fax message. "You got that little lunchbox with goodies. Can I have some?" 

John protested. "Well no. You've been eating my snacks back in College." 

"Hmph, greedy," said George. "Just 'cos you have Paul in your house..." 

"Hmm, who's the lucky lad with a lunchbox?" entered Ringo, holding a mug of tea. "Is it you, John?" 

"Obviously," replied George, cutting John, acting as if he was in-love. "Just because he's got Paulie..." 

"Aw, shut up, George," said John, hitting George on the head with paper. "Paul is a sweet bloke who'd do anything. When I say anything, I mean it." 

"That's good," replied Ringo, nodding appreciatively. "By the way, the boss has just arrived. Did you leave the papers on his table?" 

"Oh not yet!" answered John, rushing to his desk to get the papers. 

So John rushed to get the papers needed to be signed and skipped over to the boss' office. He knocked on the door.  

"Oh, it's you, Lennon," answered the boss. "Good morning. Come in, please." 

"Good morning, too, sir. Thank you." 

John paced across the red carpet of the room and sat by the table. "Uh sir," he then began, clearing his throat. "I'm here to show these papers. Please sign them." 

The boss took the papers from John's hands and reviewed them. "Okay, Mr. Lennon. I will sign them. But first, I hope that whatever we talked about in this office yesterday must not come out." 

John thought, Too bad I shared them to my friends. But anyway... 

"Sure, sir. What happens in this room stays in this room," replied John instead.  

"Good," replied the boss. "I'd like to show you my scrapbook." 

John gulped. This has been the moment he has been waiting for.  

So the boss opened the first page. In it was a big picture of a cute baby with wide, dark eyes. Under the picture was a label: "Baby James Paul McCartney, born by C-section on 18 June." 

It was the shock of John's life. It was Paul. His Paul.  

As the boss turned the pages, John became even more nervous and shocked. The last picture showed Paul in his High School graduation toga, smiling proudly as he held his diploma.  

"I have been looking for him," said the boss. "I don't know where to find him." 

John didn't know what to say.  

Suddenly, knocks were heard on the door, then it opened. "Sir, phone call for you." 

The boss wiped his tears away as he replied, "Yes, I'll take it. Thanks." 

"Sir, I have to leave now," said John as he stood up, wanting to get out. 

"Yes you may, thank you for the time," sniffed his boss as John walked off.  

John hurriedly went out of the room and ran across the area, going to his desk. He then saw George talking on the phone, gesturing John to wait. Ringo then appeared from the pantry with a mug of coffee. 

"Why you flushed?" asked Ringo, his blue eyes unblinking.  

George hung up the phone and approached John and Ringo. "So, what happened?" 

John gave them a look of nervousness. "I don't know...I really don't know..."

"What is it that you don't know?" asked George, his curiosity rising up. Ringo eagerly waited for  

John to gather himself. 

"The boss," said John, breathing in deep. "Is Paul's father." 

Ringo's and George's eyes widened at the news. 

"No way..." replied George in disbelief.  

"He's not the killer, is he?" asked Ringo.  

"Well, I think he's not," sighed John. "Because he wanted to see Paul. He wants to find him." 

"Would you turn him in?" George asked. 

John shook his head. "We must protect Paul still. We don't know what's in our boss' mind once he finds Paul. He might be the killer, but we hope not." 

** 

John was at home that night. He didn't know what to do or what to say, now that his boss is his Paul's father. Paul was washing the dishes when John leaned on him, holding Paul by the waist.  

"Paul, love," said John, whispering in his ear. "I got to talk to my boss." 

Paul stopped and faced John, looking so eager. "What about?" 

"Well, he was the one who talked to me," began John. "He shared something about a scrapbook which his former lover made for him." 

Paul's face changed. "And?" 

"Well," continued John, clearing his throat. His hands held onto Paul's arms, as he kept on looking deep into Paul's eyes. "He said that he's been looking for son. His lover stopped writing after their son's High School graduation. His lover left him because she was married. 

"And," paused John, only to look deeper into Paul's. "You are his son." 

Paul broke down, sliding himself onto the cabinet while sobbing. John sat in front of him and comforted him.  

"God, why?" sobbed Paul banging his fist on the floor. "I don't believe this!" 

"Baby, baby, calm down..." cooed John, kissing Paul on the head. "He wants to see you."

"I don't care," replied Paul bitterly. "I almost got killed! I don't need him anymore."

"But Paulie, honey, please. I'm not saying that you should see him but, of course, I am after your safety. He might be the one who almost killed you that time. I'm not gonna turn you in yet. We must weigh options first."  

Paul sobbed again, kissing John's neck. "John, I had wanted to see my father but I want to find my mother first." 

John cupped Paul's face in his hands and looked at him straight in the eyes. "I will help you with that. I am here for you. Ringo and George will help us out too."  

Tears welled up Paul's eyes as he spoke, "I shall need to see my mother, wherever she is. I need an answer." 

** 

"So he wants to find his mother," sighed Ringo.  

"Yeah, but how? We're all after his safety," said John, filing some papers the next day.  

"I think you should accompany him to his aunts," George suggested. "Maybe they can help Paul since they are his immediate relatives." 

"Good point, George," commented John. "I'll accompany Paul this weekend."  

"We'll go with you, John," said George. Ringo seconded it with a nod and a smile.  

John became relieved. "Thanks, blokes."

** 

Saturday. Ringo and George fetched Paul and John from their house. Then they headed to Quezon City. It was a cloudy day, dreary and boring. Paul looked sad, peering out of the car window. John held Paul's hand as he looked out of the window. Ringo drove the car while George sat next to him, smoking.  

"We're here," said Paul in a sad tone. They all got off the car. Ringo and George followed John and Paul to a old, two-storey house. It was really old and aged, with wood worn out by weather and other elements. Paul knocked at the gate, calling out "Tiya Maria! Tiya Isabel!" 

Out came a thin woman with eyeglasses. As soon as she saw Paul, she dashed to the gate and hugged and kissed her nephew. "Oh, Paul! We missed you!"  

Paul cried. "Tiya Isabel! Me too." 

"Come on in, come in," invited Tiya Isabel, gesturing the lads to follow her inside. As soon as they sat, another woman came out. It was Tiya Maria. She instantly hugged and kissed Paul, who was still in tears.  

"My nephew, my very loving nephew..." she said as she kissed the top of Paul's head. "Kamusta ka na? (How are you now?)" 

"Mabuti naman po (Just fine)," replied Paul, wiping his eyes with a tissue John gave him. "Tiya Isabel, Tiya Maria, mga kasama ko. Si Ringo, Si George, at si John, partner ko (Aunt Isabel, Aunt Maria, my friends. Ringo, George and John, my partner)." 

Both aunts gasped. "Anak, kalian ka pa naging --- (Son, when did you become ---)" 

"Matagal na po, hindi ko lang po nasasabi sa inyo (A long time it's been, just didn't get to tell you)," replied Paul.  

"So you are Paul's boyfriend?" asked Tiya Isabel to John. "You better take care of him. He's a good boy."  

John nodded as he replied, "Yes I do take care of your nephew. He is really kind and wonderful." 

"Tiya Isabel, Tiya Maria, napunta ako dito para malaman kung nasaan ang nanay ko (Tiya Isabel, Tiya Maria, I came here to know where my mother is)," said Paul, changing the topic. "Do you know?" 

Tiya Maria paused. Tiya Isabel stood up to get the box that was standing on the high table. 

"She's in the province. In Bicol," replied Tiya Isabel. "Here's the address." 

She then handed Paul a paper with an address in it.  

"Salamat (Thank you)," said Paul as he slid it into his shirt pocket. "Nakita na ni John kung sino ang tatay ko (John has already met my real father)." 

"Naku salamat Panginoon!" said both aunts, praising God as they help John's and Paul's hands in joy. "Si James! Nakita n'yo na! Nakausap mo na ba, Paul (You've found James already! Have you talked, Paul)?" 

"Hindi pa po (Not yet)," answered Paul. "Wala pa pong balak (No plans yet)." 

"Aba'y bakit (But why)?" asked Tiya Maria.  

"Gusto ko muna makausap si Mama bago ko s'ya kausapin (I'd like to talk to my mother first before talking to him)," said Paul. "Anyway, boss naman nina John, Ringo at George yun...(Anyway, he's John's, Ringo's and George's boss)"  

"Hulog kayo ng langit, (You are heaven-sent)" said Tiya Maria as he kissed the top of John's, Ringo's and George's heads. Tiya Isabel emerged from the kitchen with a tray filled with four big bowls of warm champorado (chocolate porridge) and a pot of milk. 

"Salamat naman at tinutulungan n'yo ang aming pamangkin (Thank goodness that you're helping our nephew)," said Tiya Isabel as she sat down to serve the guests.  

Ringo and George smiled in welcome. "Well, Paul is our friend, kaya namin s'ya tinutulungan (Well, Paul is our friend, that's why we're helping him)," replied George. 

"And he's John's lover, so there," smiled Ringo, sounding sheepish. "At ang sarap ng champorado n'yo ha (And your champorado is delicious)!" 

They all laughed at Ringo as they heartily ate the champorado.

** 

Now, Paul knew what to do next: to find his mother. But John is saying otherwise.  

"Love," said John, curling up in bed next to Paul, inching his face closer to Paul. "Aren't we supposed to weigh options first? Like, we should keep trouble at bay by not going to your mum yet?" 

Paul breathed deep and replied, "There's nothing we can do but find her. You've found my father, so then I must find my mother to tell her that. I must tell her that I now know everything that she hid from me for years." 

"What if the killer is staying with your mum?" asked John, his tone somewhat scared and nervous.  

"I'll fight," answered Paul. "He tried to kill me at my grad day, then I'll return the favour, and this time, I'll really kill him." 

John held Paul's hand tightly. "No, Paul..." 

"He must pay, that git," said Paul through gritted teeth. John could feel Paul's body tensing up. "He must pay for telling me how his life became miserable after I was born! John, I didn't know I'd live! He must pay for making my mother's life miserable." 

"But your mother had an affair with your father," whispered John. 

"There must be a deep reason why Mum had an affair with my father while that git was away," answered Paul.  

John then realised that Paul was right. He then felt Paul shift in bed.  

"I'm sleeping now, John, if you have nothing else to say." 

"I love you," said John while the back of Paul's head was facing him.  

Paul's mouth curled into a small smile. He then reached for John's hand without facing him. John took it as he intertwined his fingers into Paul's. Suddenly Paul pulled John towards him, making John lean over his back. John's rested his chin found on the junction of Paul's neck and shoulder blade. 

"Baby, protect me," said Paul in a small voice, as if he was a vulnerable person.  

"I am," replied John, telling it through Paul's ear. "And I always will." 

This time, Paul faced John and caught his lips. They kissed deeply, sealing the vow that John will always protect his Paul.  

With this, the plan of finding Paul's mother will come in next.


	3. All The Way Down.

 

 

Paul found himself packing their bags in the back of George's Toyota Sequoia. John was smoking a stick while waiting, George was drinking some iced tea from a bottle while munching on Skyflakes, and Ringo was sorting out their plane tickets.  

"All set?" asked Ringo, smiling a bit. "We must go now."  

Paul nodded as John led him inside the vehicle. George started the engine and they were off to the airport. It was six in the morning and their flight to Legazpi City was at 8am.  

*** 

Hours later, their plane landed in sunny Legazpi City. The tranquil, pastoral view of Mayon Volcano greeted them.  

"Oh, it's so beautiful here," sighed George, carrying his camera. "Have you been here, Paul?" 

Paul looked around then looked at George. "Yeah," he replied. "But that was so long ago." 

John, sensing Paul's nervousness and apprehension, stroked his lover's back. Paul nodded approvingly. They walked inside the arrivals area and waited for their luggage to be deposited onto the conveyor belt. A few minutes later, they taxied off to a hotel in the city, the Hotel St. Regis.  

Legazpi City was noisy and lively. Near the hotel were the large public market, then two malls, the city capitol, and a magnificent view of the volcano. John, Paul, George, and Ringo looked around and liked what they saw. Paul then recalled that he has to get going to his mother's place that day.  

"I have to see mother today," Paul said, his voice low.  

"Don't you wanna rest, love?" asked John, softly, trying to meet his lover's eyes.  

Paul shook his head slowly. George and Ringo gave John a look of confirmation.  

"OK then," sighed John. He wished for his lover to rest for the day, but since the main purpose of the trip was to let Paul see his Mum and ask her things, John realised that Paul is boss.  

A black Honda CR-V parked out in front of the hotel, and a valet attendant approached them.  

"Are you Mr. James Paul McCartney?" asked the valet.  

Paul cringed at the mention of his full name, reminding him of his real father. But then he replied that he was.  

"Mr. John Winston Lennon rented this car for you," replied the valet.  

Paul gave John a surprised look. John was actually pleased.  

"We have to use this car while we're here," explained John. "We can't just take trikes back and forth." 

Paul threw himself into John. He wanted to thank him but time was running out.  

"I love you, that's why," said John, whispering in Paul's ear.  

** 

John manned the wheel as Paul told him directions to his mother's place. It had been twenty minutes since they left the hotel. George and Ringo were in charge of asking for directions and short-cuts. It was already 12 noon, and the four lads were already hungry. The bad news was they were already far from the city. Vast ricefields and an almost-nearby Mayon Volcano loomed ahead.  

"Are we there yet?" asked John, seemingly worried. "The road is endless!" 

"It is endless," replied George. "All we see are ricefields and the volcano!" 

"No sight of people either," joined Ringo.  

Paul gave the three a serious glare.  

"Whoops, Paulie, we're sorry!" Ringo said, apologetically. "We didn't mean to offend your mother's province." 

As a response, Paul looked at the paper his aunts gave him, which had the address of his mother. Paul sensed they were already there. A familiar figure stood by a little gate which was adjacent to a papaya tree.  

"Pull over, John." 

It was his mother, seemingly lost and depressed.  

As John looked at Paul just as he was shutting the engine off, he noticed a tear in Paul's eye. Paul jumped out of the car and hugged his mother, whom he last saw way back five years ago.  

"Mama," Paulie's voice broke into a hoarse whisper. "I'm here." 

The last thing Paulie wanted from his mother was a quick, hard shove in the stomach. Paulie fell after the blow. John caught him on the back. Ringo and George didn't know what went wrong.  

"Ma," cried Paul, disbelief rising in him. "Bakit n'yo ako tinulak? (Why did you push me?)" 

His mother's eyes were deep and angry. "Bakit ka pa bumalik dito? (Why did you come back?)" 

"Gusto kita makita, (I want to see you)" replied Paul, standing up, dusting his shirt.  

His mother glared some more, then she asked, "Ano ang sadya mo dito? Mayaman ka na? (What is it that you need? Are you rich already?)" 

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing but he answered anyway, "Kilala ko na ang tatay ko. (I now know who my father is)" 

His mother's eyes widened in shock.  

"Boss nina John, George at Ringo ang tatay, (He's John's, George's and Ringo's boss)" added Paul. "Bakit hindi n'yo inamin sa akin na anak pala ako sa labas? Sa iba pang lalake! (Why didn't you tell me that I was an illegitimate son? I'm a son from another man!)" 

"Hindi mo na kailangang alamin, wala ring saysay, (You didn't need to know, it's useless)" replied his mother.  

Paul grew so annoyed and desperate about his mother's lack of interest. "Ma, bakit wala kayong paki-alam? Bakit parang malamig na ang pakikitungo n'yo sa akin? Ano ang ginawa ko? (Mum, why do you seem to be uninterested? How come you're so cold towards me? What did I do?)" 

"Umalis ka na, (Leave now)" said his mother. "Bago ka pa mapatay (Before you get killed)." 

And Paul has confirmed that it was his stepfather who almost killed him on his Graduation Day. 

"Si Itay ang killer? (My stepfather was the killer)" whispered Paul to his Mum, hoping for her to validate his claim.  

His mother nodded and pushed him away. "Umalis na kayo! Parating na s'ya! (Leave now! He's coming anytime now!)" 

John reached for Paul's hand, coaxing him to just follow his Mother. George and Ringo were getting ready to leave. Paul then looked at John. 

"Paul, let's just go," said John. "Please." 

"No," replied Paul, firmly. "I want to see my stepfather." 

"You could get killed! Paul, please!" John retorted, his voice a bit louder.  

"Alis na, sabi! (I said leave!)" yelled Paul's mother. George and Ringo jumped into the car. 

"John! Paul! Let's go!" called George from the window.  

John pulled Paul away from his mother and rode into the car. As John was moving the car in reverse, he noticed Paul was still looking at him mother.  

"I'm sorry, babe..." was all John could say.  

Paul reached for a cigarette and lit it, hastily, then he breathed deep.  

"I'm not eating, John," said Paul. "Please leave me alone."

***

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this Beatles AU fic around 2011, when I was at the peak of my devotion to the world's best band. I know I decided to extend this story, but as time went on, I found myself shelving it because of commitments. I would love to continue this, but in the near future.


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